Episode 48 - Crimson Tide 1



Maengseol did not move.
Kaftin shifted direction slightly, trying to step around him — and Maengseol moved with him, pressing further into the path, blocking every angle.
"Maengseol. Move. I'm not done yet. Not yet — the Night Fist Lord's head, right here—!"
"What if I told you there was a better way than tearing out his head and hanging it on the grave?"
"......!"
The sound of grinding teeth.
Kaftin held up Bizeth's head, visibly unconvinced.
"There is nothing more certain, or more efficient, than this. You know that, Maengseol."
"Of course I do. But breaking the enemy's dignity and pride and making them live out their shame is a better outcome than simply killing them."
Kaftin's footsteps stopped.
"And you're telling me that man agreed to that?"
"He did. From here, he comes with me to Vesren's grave."
"......!"
Kaftin's hand immediately closed around Maengseol's throat.
"Ngh—?!"
"You bastard—! You're going to reveal my master's grave location to one of the Gang Lords—!"
"Y-yes—! And I'm going to make him kneel and apologize in person—!"
"And then you're going to kill him properly afterward—?!"
"No — I'll take everything he owns, and keep him alive — ngh—!"
The grip was tightening steadily, and Maengseol finally seized the wrist with both hands, straining against it.
"Don't make me laugh — Maengseol! I said this clearly — take responsibility and dispose of him, or I do it! And if this is how you handle it — I don't need you anymore!"
"......!!"
"Most things I'll let you do your way — but this is my problem! If you won't handle it the way I need it handled—?!"
Kaftin bit the words out through his teeth, and Maengseol immediately shook his head.
"That may be true — but you do know? Vesren... was my friend as well!"
"......!"
"Which means this isn't yours alone, Kaftin! And I said I would handle him — it's natural that I see it through to the end my way!"
"How dare—!"
Maengseol had reached his own limit.
He would have yielded on anything else — but not this.
"I told him to abandon the world and dedicate the rest of his life to the fist — to a final life-or-death match with me! However many years it takes, to spend whatever life remains to him on the fist—!"
"......!"
"For a final life-or-death match — dedicated to Vesren—!"
The grip on Maengseol's throat slowly eased.
Kaftin had begun to sense, however faintly, that Maengseol was not keeping the man alive out of soft-hearted sentimentality.
"...That is your form of mourning, then."
"...It is."
The killing intent withdrew, and Kaftin stepped back and let out a small sigh.
"Whatever that man does afterward, if he survives — that falls entirely on you. Understood?"
"...Of course."
"Fine. If you've made that decision with full awareness of what it means, I won't say another word."
He turned and fixed his gaze on the crew — and Gabelth, still crouched in the corner, quietly exhaled.
The killing intent Kaftin had just shown.
If Maengseol hadn't been there shielding him, his head would almost certainly be dangling from the monster's hand right now.
"Ngh—! I'm... grateful for the protection—!"
"Not for your sake. Either way, you have to go to Vesren's grave alive and bow in apology. Whether it's humiliation in death or humiliation in life — losing your dignity and your wealth doesn't change."
"......"
"I simply thought it would be a waste to lose your talent."
With that, Maengseol looked down at him with cold eyes.
"Just in case — I'm telling you this now. If you ever fail to leave the world behind and try something foolish—"
"......!"
"I will take responsibility and dispose of you myself. Fortunately I'm not one to prefer cruelty — but Kaftin will certainly want your head brought to him. Do you understand what I'm telling you?"
"O-of course I do—! I understand perfectly well—!"
He had made it clear one more time — break the promise and make a mess of things, and the demi-human martial artist who outclassed him by two levels would come to beat him to death.
And in that case, Kaftin's instructions meant his head would be torn off as well.
"Damn it all—!"
"Yes. It's not a good situation. But it isn't the worst either. At least — you still have your life."
"......"
The ship arrived safely at the Maritime Kingdom's home archipelago, where the Old Capital was located.
The kingdom's archipelago consisted of seven islands of varying sizes, and it was on the largest of these that the Old Capital stood.
By now it had become the Maritime Kingdom's largest trading city — ships coming and going in vast numbers, from pirates to merchants crossing to and from the eastern continent.
The crew had originally been hired to kill Kaftin — but with their employer defeated so thoroughly, they were now scrambling to distance themselves from the whole affair as quickly as possible.
"W-we've arrived... now... if you could just... disembark..."
The captain was sweating profusely, rubbing his hands together in front of Kaftin.
That whatever was in front of him existed outside the bounds of common human sense — that had been thoroughly confirmed.
And beside him stood the enormous demi-human martial artist who had knocked around Gabelth — the Night Fist Lord, once called the finest fighter in the Maritime Kingdom — like a child.
"Oh? So you'd like to dump us here and make your escape at full speed?"
"N-no, nothing like that... it's simply that according to our contract, once we reach the Old Capital, all passengers are to disembark..."
"So — you won't take us back to the mainland?"
Kaftin ground his teeth and slowly raised Bizeth's head high.
"Come to think of it — you lot were the ones who kept firing cannons at me earlier, weren't you?"
"Eep—!"
"And now it's — we were only doing what we were paid for, nothing to do with us — is that it?"
Just as Kaftin was about to take a step forward, Maengseol lightly stamped the deck to draw his attention.
"Kaftin."
"What? I'm about to get busy."
"Leave this one to me."
"No. This is my problem. These people fired cannons at me — multiple times."
"...Killing them all is one option — but bad rumors could be inconvenient. Please."
At Maengseol's second attempt to intervene, Kaftin's expression visibly darkened.
He had let the matter of Gabelth slide — a hundred steps of generosity — because Maengseol had been the one to fight him and had the right to decide his fate in victory.
But these crew members were a different matter entirely. They had interfered while he was fighting — the enemy's collaborators. His enemies.
"Rumors? Do I look like someone who cares about that? If rumors are the concern, we simply deal with anyone likely to spread them at the same time. If anything, ripping the arms and legs off everyone in this port and throwing them into the sea sounds efficient enough."
Maengseol's brow furrowed at the answer.
Expected — but nonetheless. He needed some grounds to stop him.
"Then there'll be no ship to take us back."
"Doesn't matter. I can swim."
"...What about me?"
"...Tch."
Only then did Kaftin start actually thinking it through, clicking his tongue.
"...If another ship comes, we hijack it. Simple."
"And to keep the rumors from spreading, once we reach the mainland — we kill them too?"
"Obviously. Loose ends need to be cleaned up."
At the exchange between the two, the crew and captain had gone pale, swallowing repeatedly.
Kaftin was casually planning mass slaughter — and it didn't sound remotely implausible.
The image of his monstrous form on the water was still burned into their eyes.
Just as the discussion was edging toward its conclusion in Kaftin's favor —
"Hey there — Barnacle! How's business these days? Something feels tense over here—?"
A bright, unhesitating woman's voice from a pirate ship that had just pulled up alongside.
The captain — apparently going by the nickname Barnacle — flinched mid-sweat and turned toward the sound.
"Damn it! This is not the time! Go mind your own business!"
Getting into conversation now with the woman captaining that pirate ship — known as Bloody Tide — with the monster right here could only end badly.
He'd managed to snap her down and thought that was that —
Thunk. A gangplank dropped and connected the two ships.
"Barnacle, you little — long time no see and that's how you talk to a fellow professional? Want another boot to the backside—?"
Heels clicking with every step, announcing her presence, the red-haired woman captain strode aboard — and instantly sensed that the atmosphere on Barnacle's ship was not right, and fell silent.
"Ah... was this somewhere I shouldn't have come?"
"Hey. Barnacle."
"Yikes—?!"
"You little liar. You deceived me."
The killing intent that had been cooling down in Kaftin flared back up in an instant.
Maengseol moved quickly to block him — but Kaftin shoved past with raw force and stepped forward.
The woman captain's expression froze further at the sight of what was in Kaftin's hand.
"Hey. Barnacle — didn't you tell me earlier you were a merchant? That's strange. Maybe my ears aren't working right."
"N-no, that is — well, you see—"
Barnacle was streaming tears and snot, glaring daggers at the woman captain.
But that lasted only a moment — Kaftin walked forward and seized him by the ear, yanking hard enough to threaten to tear it off.
"Hey. Look at me. Are you having a laugh? You said merchant. Merchant, you said. Didn't you?"
"Eeeeeek—! Th-that is — well—!"
"Hey. Head up. Look up."
"......?!"
He yanked the ear upward, forcing the head back — and at the top of the mast, a black pirate flag snapped in the wind.
"I knew from the start, actually. I was giving you the benefit of the doubt. Turns out you've got some nerve."
"P-p-please spare me—! I genuinely was just paid for it—! And it wasn't just anyone, it was the Gang Lords' commission — how was I supposed to refuse—?!"
He was wailing and insisting he had only been used — but—
"If you hadn't fired the cannons, there might have been room to consider it. Instead you lied to my face and shot me with them—"
Kaftin's eyes rolled briefly as something occurred to him, and a deranged smile spread across his face.
"Fine. I've thought of a way to forgive you."
"Y-you mean it?!"
"Yes. But not for free."
"......!"
He slowly raised Bizeth's head with his other hand, voice bright with anticipation—
"Here. Kiss it."
"Wh—?!"
"A kiss. Right on those lips."
"...?! B-b-but that person is—"
"Do it."
"B-but that—"
"No? Then I suppose I'll just have to flay you alive, throw the contents into the sea, and use the skin as a carpet on the deck instead."
"......!!"
Kaftin set the head down on the deck and drew a knife, and Barnacle went gray.
The one who saved him was the woman captain who had been watching the whole thing from the front.
—To be continued—